After two Strikes, you're out

In Ghana, there is a saying that goes, "If you have your hand in a gorilla's mouth, do not hit him on the head."

Before we discuss why anyone would want to smack a gorilla in the head or put their hand in its mouth, the very expressive proverb's main message is to simply be aware of where power resides. Such was my hard-learned lesson after a recent run-in with a group of silently vengeful hairdressers in Accra, the nation's capital in West Africa, where I was visiting. You have undoubtedly heard of the Russian Bratva Mafia and the Japanese Yakusa, and you have probably seen movies about them, but none of those has adequately prepared you for the activities of this less well-known organisation. They perform their duties while carrying the sharpest scissors, and aprons, smiles for the obedient, and impatient sighs for those who dared to express an opposing view. If you dare to stomp on their delicate, overworked toes, you risk losing their intense loyalty that can be won through big tips. Stay away from those toes at all costs.

I don't use any chemicals to straighten my wonderful coils because I prefer to keep my hair natural. To avoid looking like the ball of wool the cat was playing with, this also means that I have had to make some hair care decisions. I've learned how to properly detangle and wash my hair, use the right products to define my curls and coils, and put my hair up in protective styles to prevent breakage and split ends in colder weather.

I get on the protective styling van whenever I get the chance since managing these coils takes a lot of time. I always make time to get a protective hairdo done that will last for at least a few months whenever I get the chance to visit back home because I live in a nation where few persons can correctly do these protective styles and who moreover charge an arm and a leg for them. Freedom! And it was just this that led me to the door of this Accra Hairdressers Mafia outpost.

The depth of the harm done is apparent three months later.

It's always been easy for me to find this salon because it's prominently situated at an intersection in one of Accra's most well-known neighbourhoods. They have a sizable customer base, which in some ways speaks to the quality of the work they do, and they specialise in braids and weaves. Generally speaking, the stairs leading to the first floor of the building are clean and easy to use. Today, as with most days, the salon owner herself greets me with a wide smile. She is a dark-skinned, average-height woman who hasn't quite figured out who I am, but she keeps trying with the standard "Ei, helloooo, is this you?" You and I haven't spoken in a while. How is school going? Since I haven't been in a classroom she would recognise for at least three years, I decided against giving her any explanations that would be quickly forgotten in favour of just grinning and saying, "It's amazing," before going on to explain what I need to be done. For this part, I display the cropped image on my phone, which is necessary to lower the likelihood of error from misunderstanding, which occurs frequently, and the ensuing "Oh Madam, I thought you meant this style rather" and "Ow, but this also looks really good on you oh," as you fume in disappointment and rage at the horror on your head.

The proprietor only ever cuts people's hair on the rarest of occasions. This privilege is only extended to famous socialites and celebrities who happen to walk in, as well as to extremely wealthy foreign-accented clients who specifically ask for her hand and her very close pals. A large group of numerous other employees take care of everyone else. I had up till now been safe.

The tides have changed by the time you are given to these women. From this point on, it is crucial to understand that whatever you say or do could be used for or against you in the hair court of law and would have a significant impact on whether you got the style you wanted or something completely off-target. Your hand will enter the gorilla's mouth this time, and failing to identify it will lead to all of your problems.

I sagged onto the chair the pack leader offers me and take the scrunchy out to let my thick, rich head of hair loose. When asked if I wanted to wash my hair, I gave the word "no." I typically wash my hair at home because these women can manage natural hair, but they either are accustomed to shorter hair that doesn't knot easily or simply won't learn how to wash longer natural hair properly. They have to slightly damp my hair to make it simpler to handle, but they instruct me to sit at the washer nevertheless. I agree even though they might have used a spray bottle for this. I am aware that I have a few nerves, and I save them for when it matters most. I return to the chair in front of the mirror and get ready for the coming suffering. The pack's leader adds, "Madam, kindly you have to clip your hair today." I explain to her that I had just recently had a trim and was not yet prepared for another. In addition, my hair was in excellent condition, and I had not intended on getting any kind of trim. She cries out, "No, no, you have to cut this hair." I hold my ground as I gradually become aware that I have approached the first nerve. I'm sure I can make it.

I immediately start tap-dancing on the nerve as I once more refuse to use a blow dryer on my hair. Although the hair extension I intended to use already had the texture I wanted it to have, I did not think it made sense to have my hair straightened first and then braid it coyly. In addition, straightening my hair frequently interfered with my curl pattern, so I tried to avoid it as much as possible.

I realise I walked on it when I reject their second instruction because I can see the leader and the minions exchanging stares in the mirror. The gentleness disappears, being replaced with bored expressions and repeated "humphs." One of the minions leaves and joins a team doing someone else's hair, a clear indication that they are finished with the job. This is a problem; if you want to finish on schedule, you need as many hands as you can get.

This group is trying their hardest to show me that they were right to propose that I straighten the hair before braiding, although the entire braiding process is painful. I curl up and open a book I brought with me to take my mind off the discomfort and the talk going on over my head. A few remarks on my hair later, and I have unknowingly entered an utterly undesirable area and am now at the Mafia's mercy.

They continue because payment is contingent upon completion of the hair. However, their preferred means of punishment are the pairs of scissors they choose to use to "smoothen" the braids. They execute their judgement on me by cutting through the middle of the braid and consequently through my hair under the pretence of removing the undesired hair that has grown out of the braids.

The depth of the harm done is apparent three months later. About a hundred separate braids were undone, revealing that between a third and half of my actual hair had been cut short in the middle, obviously using scissors.

I'm upset with myself for letting them use the scissors while noticing their expressions and faces' expressionless communication. I'm upset that, after carefully and slowly growing my hair for five years, I can't go and show them the chunks of my hair they cut and the asymmetrical tufts of hair I now have on my head. I'm upset with them because I didn't deserve it for speaking out about how my hair should be handled and because I can't legally sue them. Because no amount of money, even if they could afford to pay, could ever replace the lost hair or the years spent growing it, I am especially enraged that they would do it to another individual who steps on their toes by having a choice and get away with it once more.

To help them make wiser decisions during their appointments, I have taken my "L" and told as many family members and friends as I can about my experience. I've committed to improving my hair-braiding technique and never entrusting anyone else with taking care of my hair until it is necessary to do so.

I casually entered the gorilla's lair, quietly put my hand there, and somehow, without realising it, ended up hitting him on the head so many times that he bit off my hand. learnt lesson.Click here for more reading.